Rituali
by air du temps
Summary: Theory based, focusing on Sheik becoming Zelda, and his disdainful point of view. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda.

I know it's not canon, I'm simply playing around with ideas and interpretation.

* * *

><p>Windswept sands forced me to squint my eyes lest they would sting as I stared into the desert. I was home. The white garb covering my face helped in these conditions where sandstorms were frequent.<p>

I was a part of the Sheikah tribe, the Shadow folk, who ironically dwelled in the scorching sun. It wasn't always like this.

Some say we are distant relatives of the Twili through the Dark Interlopers. I have no opinion on this. It is possible that that is why we must live in secrecy, never becoming more than a tribe, eternally serving the Royal Family to appease for our traitorous ancestors. Others say the betrayal happened long after we became loyal servants and protectors, making the wound more sharp and painful. It's just a theory though, no one really knows.

Kakariko village used to be ours, but it slowly infested with Hylians, no longer a home for the Sheikah. Although, our Temple is still there. We're told to respect them, view them as equals and to never use our magic on them. I don't care for them. I don't intend on harming them either, even if they are maintaining this status quo.

I don't like to consider ourselves to be superior to the Hylians, but...in some ways we are.

Their Royal Family wouldn't last without us, yet we give our lives to them, nearly wiping out our own people in their wars and squabbles. It's rather one-sided.

We are told that it goes deeper than that, that we are the chosen guardians of Hylia, a sort of demi-goddess who herself was chosen by the Goddesses themselves.

I would have an easier time believing this if there was an actual sign of such divine powers. Instead, I see the world's true face; corruption and war at the hands of mortals. There are no Goddesses in this realm, no saving grace for our self-destruction.

And now, some fool was chasing after fairy tales. It all came down to the same greed though. His name was Ganondorf, the Gerudo leader with a penchant for power.

It was because of him, them, their silly ego games, that I stared into the horizon, waiting for my charge.

I spent my whole life preparing for this day, a day that may never have come, but unfortunately it did for my young life. I'll never live past fifteen, but she will.

News broke fast amongst the gossip stones, an ancient and effective method of communication only known to the Sheikahs. Hylians looked upon them with curiosity, oblivious to their true nature.

She was coming. Impa would show her the way through the Haunted Wasteland. No one dared to venture beyond the markers, not even the Gerudos.

Years of training. Years of fasting, insomnia, endurance, magic wielding, perfecting my skills, and survival for it to all come to this? It was incredibly ironic.

As the sun set, they arrived. She was ten. She was scared. She was young and foolish. I was to take on my charge.

I entered the tent in silence, Impa stoically following behind. The Princess's eyes darted around in fear and awe. For her to come here, the circumstances must not have been good. My time has come.

I sat on my knees, Impa mirroring my position across from me. The Princess, kept her poise when sitting. The tribal leader sat beside me.

"So, it has begun?" he asked. Impa nodded.

"You are ready, Sheik," he told me. No reassurance. Just a statement of finality. I am to fulfill my duty. I stood, ready to take my charge. We were to do this alone. All magic was to be done alone.

Unlike our leader, Impa offered words of comfort to the Princess. Of course, a Hylian would need reassurance. Sheikahs were stronger than this.

The Princess stared up at me with uncertainty. I offered my hand, she took it like the lost child she was. How was the world to depend on such small shoulders?

"We need to disguise you," I finally spoke. It seemed to shock her out of her daze.

"How?" she asked naively. She should know the procedure by now, I'm certain Impa has told her, but one can forget.

I didn't answer. Impa was quick to produce the robes, the face coverings, the Sheikah clothing. Soon the Princess was a small bundle, and I was to protect her till the end.

Our journey was short, sticking to the shadows, made in silence. The Princess had questions I'm certain, but talking produced far too much noise, and she was being searched for after all.

Only when she realized on the third day that we were approaching Kakariko village, did she say something. "Isn't this too close? How will you hide me there?"

"It is where we must go," I replied, dissuading her from further conversation.

She stuck close behind me, clutching onto a frayed strip of cloth from my wrist as we made our way behind houses, through the deserted alleys of the village. We took a covert route to the cemetery. She was more confused than ever.

The Gravedigger was asleep in his hut. A small child played around some tombstones with a stick. Odd. He was easily avoided and took no notice of us whispering past him.

I lifted the Princess to the ledge, where she was just able to grab onto the fence. I, on the other hand, was able to achieve it with a swift jump. She looked impressed. Little did she know, my training was only leading me quicker to my demise.

We descended the cold steps. The hollowness of the earth reverberated back to us the little sound available creating an eerie atmosphere. There was very little lighting down here, but Shadow Folk strived in darkness; Sheikahs did have crimson irises after all.

I held out my arm to stop the Princess from walking into an unlit torch.

"Stand back," I warned her. She did not disobey. She stood outside of the circle, unaware of the chalky emblem stamped within the earth.

I stepped onto the pedestal, concentrating on the energies around me. It was incredibly difficult, even after a lifetime of practice, but within moments I was able to control the elements and lit the torches with a sweep of my hands. An entire circle lit up around me, the Princess stood beyond it.

A Hylian wouldn't be able to produce this without the help of the Goddesses. The Hero of Time can wield them though, so I've been taught.

A low rumbling noise began, and rocks cracked and crumbled as the door to the Shadow Temple opened. Our Temple.

They say it was built upon the bones of our people which was, frankly, confirmed by the amount of skeletons lining nearly every crevice that wasn't covered by stones.

I heard the Princess recite behind me, "Here is gathered Hyrule's bloody history of greed and hatred."

Ah, so she does know where we are. Sometimes, I wonder what that says about our people.

She followed closely behind. I could feel the fear emanating off her as bones were crushed to dust beneath us, and rusty blood flecking the surfaces greeted our eyes.

Several times I had to stop the Princess from falling through a fake floor, or other invisible danger. Her gasps of shock began to die out as we crossed through another seemingly solid adorned wall, its ghoulish face mocking us.

I did my best to avoid any enemies plaguing the House of the Dead, only alerted by their sluggish steps and guttural sounds. We were not to disturb the Temple. It was to be left for the Hero of Time. Finally, we entered a desolate area. I could sense we arrived. I could tell the walls were marked differently.

The Princess looked around nervously, scrunching her nose at the decaying smell her cowl barely covered.

Reaching into my own cloak, I produced a dagger just for the occasion. I didn't even wince when I sliced a shallow cut across my palm. Sheikahs were not allowed to show pain. Sheikahs were to be devoid of emotions. Sheikahs could endure anything.

Sanguine droplets began to break across the cut, oozing onto my skin. I pressed my hand against the wall without a flinch. Slowly, the blood seeped within the cracks, a pattern showing and faint glow appearing. Sheikah ancestry was the key.

I held out my clean hand for the Princess to take, and we walked through the pliant wall.

The hidden chamber was sinister and sacred to our people. Our symbol loomed above us, the floor marked with a different emblem, my fate was sealed.

I lit the few torches around us. The Princess appeared to be terribly confused.

"Now is time for the Ritual," I told her.

"What Ritual?" she asked.

"The Ritual that will keep you safe and hidden until your destiny comes," I informed her.

Her innocent gaze wandered around the room. "Impa will keep me safe," she decided.

"Not forever. This will," I merely replied.

I began to set up with the materials provided at the altar; automatically preparing as I had been instructed to a thousand times over. This was my destiny.

The dried herbs, probably as old as the Temple itself, still produced the smoky incense needed. Its tendrils hazed the air and filled your lungs.

The shard of dark glass, I kept hidden until the very end.

"Step into the circle," I told the Princess. She obeyed, trusting Impa's judgement on me more than my own.

As I walked around the circle, I sprinkled the offerings around us: a mixture of salt, and ash, and things best left unknown.

When the smoke had created the necessary fog, the Eye above us barely discernible, I stepped into the circle and kneeled before the Princess.

She noticed something was awry.

"What is happening?" she asked.

The shadows grew around us as the Ritual approached, their claws reaching for us, ready to consume. The shadows envelop you, but darkness devours.

I had doubt in her Goddesses, but I believed in our own. All that was left was a sacrifice.

The Princess was becoming more afraid by the second.

"Don't be scared," I assured her. This was important for the Ritual. "The Sheikahs are not harmed by this and neither will you." Soon.

"Sheik, what is this? Impa never told me about this," she asked, reaching for my hands and clutching onto them.

"The Sheikahs know dark magic," I confirmed.

Her eyes widened. "It is forbidden," she whispered.

"And it will save you," I told her.

"I don't understand." She shook her head, the incense was getting to her.

"I am your vessel, Princess."

Her expression showed question without words.

"You will live your life as me, in my body, until your time comes. You will be protected this way," I explained.

"What will happen to you?" she asked, concerned. Poor child.

"I don't come back."

Her eyes widened in greater fear. "You're going to die?"

I ignored her question, retrieving the sacrificial shard. The smoke was suffocating. It was time.

"Sheik, answer me. You're supposed to lead us back out of the Temple? I can't do that alone. I need you!" She was becoming frantic, horrified at the prospect.

"The body will know what to do," I told her.

They told me the quickest way was through your neck, and that's where I sliced.


End file.
